


giving love to the world

by vineyardfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Comeplay, Fluff, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Teabagging, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vineyardfic/pseuds/vineyardfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis has football practice; harry is impatient (aka the one where they try to fuck under the bleachers).</p>
            </blockquote>





	giving love to the world

**Author's Note:**

> this is the second timestap from my big bang series, which will be moved here from my lj eventually, but can certainly be read as a standalone. many thanks to **sharon** , **danielle** , **kazi** , and **hannah** for writing with me to make sure i finished this, to my many cheerleaders for being amazing, and to **emma** for the edit and also just being amazingly supportive. ily all  <3

"Is that a pen in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

It's Friday afternoon and classes have been over for some time now, the hallway empty save the two of them. Trapped between Harry's body and the row of lockers behind him, Louis bites back a moan as Harry's teeth scrape over his neck - they might be alone _now,_ but that doesn't mean he can't still be heard.

Football practice started five minutes ago and Louis is meant to be warming up out on the pitch with the rest of the team, but damn it if Harry isn't doing a fine job of convincing him to stay here instead.

"S'a bit bigger than a pen, Lou," Harry says, pulling back so they're eye-to-eye. His fringe is sticking up oddly, nostrils flaring as his lips curve into a smirk. It shouldn't be a good look on him, but somehow it is. (It’s possible that Louis has lost his ability to be objective due to increased exposure.)

"It’s not cute to brag, babe," Louis says, fighting the pull of his mouth as it twitches toward a smile. This is not how he saw his afternoon going; he had plans that, yes, did include the hot press of Harry's cock against his hip, but not like this.

But sometimes a little improvisation can only be a good thing.

"It’s not bragging if it's true." Harry's smile is entirely too smug as he punctuates this with a roll of his hips. He slides his hands around Louis' waist to the small of his back to pull him in closer.

Louis' breath hitches and he arches up into Harry's touch, leaning in to slide his lips over the smooth side of Harry's jaw. "I can't just skive off practice," he murmurs, "I’m the captain."

Calling on the last of his willpower, he nudges at Harry's chest until his boyfriend backs off, brows drawn together and lips turned down in a pout.

"What’s the point in being captain if you can't do what you want?"

"That’s not - that literally has _nothing_ to do with being captain whatsoever. The whole point is for me to be there and lead the team." he rolls his eyes as he says it because he _knows_ Harry knows this. He just likes being difficult.

Case in point - Harry practically plasters himself to Louis' back as they walk back towards the change rooms. "Can you - stop?" he says, laughing as he slaps away Harry's wandering hands. He must have like five of them, because every time Louis pushes one away he's being groped somewhere else. 

"We have a whole house to ourselves and you're worrying about football practice," Harry whines, nose scrunching, and Louis can't hold back a laugh.

"It's just conditioning training, we'll be done in an hour. The house will still be there when I’m done, and it'll be just as empty – I'm sure you can manage by yourself for sixty minutes."

He leans in for a kiss before Harry can respond, makes it quick and dirty but forces himself to pull away before they can get carried away. Harry tends to have that effect on him, and he's going to have the piss taken for being as late as it is without having to walk onto the pitch sporting a boner. 

As usual, Harry is a little dazed when they part, and Louis takes advantage of his temporary stupor to duck inside the change room and lock the door behind him. He hears a slightly put out, "Heeeey," and then footsteps as Harry finally heads out to the pitch to wait for him in the stands.

He's at least in his kit already, but the room is empty which means he'll be lucky if he doesn't get his ass kicked by Coach Higgins. Jogging out onto the green, Louis is met with a round of applause by the rest of the team, and then wolf-whistles as he gets close enough for them to see the mark Harry's left in plain sight on the curve of his neck.

Paul doesn't say anything, but he rolls his eyes hard enough that Louis knows he'll be hearing about this later. He can live with that.

When he turns to look back at the stands, Harry's already sitting in one of the lower rows, and he lifts his arm and taps his wrist when he sees Louis looking. Louis blows him a kiss and flips him the finger, and then Paul’s blowing his whistle and it's time to start their warm-ups.

 

Practice ends with Louis covered in sweat and full of adrenaline. He drops into a lazy sprawl in the middle of the pitch as soon as Higgins blows his whistle, legs kicked out in front of him as he catches his breath. A shadow falls over him as Niall jogs to a stop in front of him, holding out a hand to pull him to his feet.

Louis takes it gratefully. "Y'looked good today, Neil. Shoe-in for captain next year, I think."

Niall grins, cheeks pinking up as he laughs self-consciously. "Yeah, you reckon?"

Slinging an arm around his shoulder, Louis leads him towards the doors. He knows how important this is to Niall - he's been at Louis' side all year, offering suggestions for strategy - and he's got a great attitude for the job. "Yeah, 'course. Especially after the _rousing_ letter of recommendation Zayn's gonna write for me."

Niall's smile widens and Louis pulls him in closer, squeezing lightly. "Thanks, mate," he says, leaning into Louis' touch briefly before glancing over his shoulder. "Better check in on your boy."

Louis follows his gaze to find Harry watching them both intently. Louis can make out enough of his expression to know it's not just his usual resting face; there's something almost angry in the set of his brows - that might have something to do with the extra squats Louis did during warm-ups, plus the constant stopping to bend over and retie his laces (Louis has never been the type to fight fair).

Niall slips out from under his arm with a mad cackle and Louis aims a slap that misses its mark at the back of his head, holding the door open with one hand while he gesticulates wildly to Harry in a way that he hopes conveys 'stay right there I’ll be back' before ducking into the change room to shower.

 

There are conversations taking place in all corners of the locker room but Louis heads straight for the showers, claiming one of the closed-off stalls as his own. He takes his time, careful to be _extra_ thorough - no doubt Harry has come up with an entire list of things for them to do, and he'd rather just get to it as soon as possible.

Most of the team have cleared out by the time he's finished, only a few stragglers lounging around in various stages of undressed. But either someone said something while Louis was washing up or they all just know well enough by now, because no one tries to keep him any longer than he wants to be as he says his goodbyes before heading back out to the pitch.

Harry's still in the same spot Louis left him, elbows on his knees as he leans forward to mess with his phone (probably texting Gemma, or playing one of those stupid addictive games he's always downloading). Climbing the stairs, Louis drops his bag onto the seat in front of him with a heavy thud, startling Harry into looking up at him. 

"Took you long enough," Harry grouses, tucking his phone back into his pocket and leaning over to reach for his bag.

Louis stills him with a hand on the shoulder, pushing him back until he's sitting upright. "Please," he scoffs, "as if you weren't enjoying the view. I saw you checking out my arse, Styles."

Harry grins, slow and wide, legs falling open as he assumes a casual slouch. His eyes roam over Louis from his feet to his head, gaze heated. "It’s a good arse," he says with a one-armed shrug.

Louis feels a bit naked with Harry's eyes on him like this, but it only makes him bolder. Uncaring of anyone who might still be around to witness, he slings a leg up over Harry's hip and drops down into his lap, throwing his arms around Harry's neck. Harry's hands reach for his hips immediately, slide over them to curl around the curve of his arse and Louis can't help but push into them as he lowers his head to mouth at the shell of Harry's ear.

"Want it?" he murmurs, smirking when Harry groans and throws his head back, exposing the long column of his neck. He wastes no time in leaning down to run the tip of his tongue over the skin there, moaning when Harry's hands squeeze him through his sweats. Rolling his hips, he grinds down against Harry and feels the other boy starting to thicken up under him.

"You’re so easy," Louis says with a breathless laugh, pulling back in time to avoid a headbutt as Harry rolls his head forward, frowning indignantly.

"Shut up, I’ve been waiting all day."

Louis darts in to kiss the pout off his lips but what was supposed to be a quick, chaste kiss turns dirty fast when Harry pushes his hips up to rock against him and takes advantage of Louis' surprised gasp to lick his way into his mouth. His hands are kneading at Louis' arse and Louis wishes he were touching bare skin, wants to feel the press of Harry's fingers against him.

"God, Lou," Harry groans as they pull apart. He's breathing hard, eyes dark, and his cock a hard line in his jeans as Louis writhes against him. His nails are scratching at him through his sweats as his fingers flex against Louis' arse, pulling his cheeks apart so that his cock slides between them through the layers of fabric as Louis grinds in his lap.

Louis is honestly seconds away from pulling down their pants and riding Harry right here in the stands. His head spins a little at the thought and - _huh_ , that's something to come back to later.

"Okay, okay. Fuck," he says, plucking Harry's hands from his arse and climbing unsteadily to his feet. His dick is tenting out the front of his sweats obscenely and Harry's looking at it like he's starved, which is the complete opposite of what he's trying to achieve here. 

To be fair, Louis' having a hard time remembering why he stopped himself, looking down at the way Harry's half-sprawled across two seats, legs kicked open wide and the line of his cock clearly on display through his trousers.

"We can't do this here." Louis isn't sure who he's talking to - Harry, or himself. He's just glad it's a Friday because he doesn't want to think about which of his teammates might have seen him rutting in his boyfriend's lap like some kind of animal.

Harry doesn't answer him right away. Louis' about to snap his fingers in his face when Harry finally sits up straight and sweeps an unsteady hand through his fringe. Louis takes a step back as Harry reaches for him, ignoring the way he frowns petulantly.

"Take me _home_ , Harry. Isn't that what you've been sitting out here waiting for?"

Harry cracks a smile at that and then he's finally on his feet. This time, Louis lets himself be drawn in as Harry leans down to kiss him, fingers slipping up under the hem of his shirt to brush his knuckles over Louis' stomach. It's the kind of kiss that has him rising up on his toes, things of the warm and fuzzy variety fluttering in his chest. Harry isn't even that much taller than him, so he ends up craning his head back to adjust, before Harry grips his shirt tighter to hold him close as he pushes back until Louis' heels hit the ground.

Louis is breathless when they pull apart, rolling his eyes at the satisfied look on Harry's face.

"Are we the only ones left?" Harry asks.

"What?"

"The team, did they all leave?" he says it slowly, like Louis' daft, eyes widening exaggeratedly.

"No, there were a few guys left in the change room when I came out here, and I don't know who else might have been hanging around in the school. They should have gone home by now, though. I think."

Harry hums, glancing over his shoulders like he's searching for something, and then nods once to himself.

Louis yelps as his feet leave the ground, Harry's hands under his thighs lifting him so he has no choice but to wrap his legs around his waist as his arms go around Harry’s neck. "Fuck’s sake, you caveman. Warn me, next time."

"Your fault," Harry singsongs, grinning as he carries Louis down the short set of stairs and around the side of the stands so they're hidden from view. Louis' dick twitches where it's pressed against Harry's stomach and Harry's hands flex where he's holding him up, which only makes it happen again. Louis flicks Harry's ear once when he laughs.

He sets him down once they're neatly tucked away under an alcove, and Louis arches an eyebrow at his pleased, expectant expression.

"What?" he says flatly. Harry just grins wider, advancing on him until Louis' back hits one of the support beams and he has nowhere else to go.

"Just us, here," he says, voice pitched low. Louis' cock twitches again. Harry's eyes flick down once and then his grin widens as he ducks down to mouth at the corner of Louis' jaw. "They’d have to come looking to find us."

"What happened to going back to yours?"

"That would take too long. I want you _now_."

Louis can't really argue with that. Harry's hands find their way to his hips when he doesn't immediately object, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his joggers. When his hands creep down further and touch bare skin, Harry goes still.

"Louis," he says, "you aren't wearing any pants."

"Aren't you observant?" Louis smirks as Harry pulls back to shoot him a look that's half disbelief and half arousal, his fingers moving as if on their own accord to trail along his waist. Louis can't help but squirm away when Harry's fingers ghost over his hipbones - it's ticklish! - before jutting his hips forward. The tenting of his cock looks even more obscene now that they both know it's only his sweats keeping him concealed.

He moans, but it's swallowed up by Harry's mouth as he leans in to kiss him, one hand reaching down to curl around him through his sweats and palming him roughly. Louis' eyes fly open when the touch disappears, barely registering Harry as he pulls away.

"You’re gonna stain your - oh, okay." Harry drops to his knees, pulling down his sweats as he goes, and wastes no time in wrapping his lips around the base of Louis' cock as it's exposed. He moans as he opens his mouth wider to take Louis down to the back of his throat, and it's all Louis can do to hold on to the support beams behind him and try to keep himself upright.

Harry doesn't hesitate, finds a quick and steady rhythm as he slides his mouth over Louis' cock, tongue hanging out just a bit over his bottom lip. His mouth is so so warm, lips closed tight and tongue soft like velvet as it slides over him. Harry angles his head one way and then the other, mouth twisting like a corkscrew around Louis' cock. Louis feels like the bottom of his stomach drops every time Harry tilts his head, his hips flexing from the effort it takes to keep still.

It's wet and messy and loud, saliva dripping down the sides of Harry's mouth but he's not bothered. He looks up at Louis through his eyelashes, lips curving into a smirk when Louis swears hotly at the picture he makes. From this angle, Louis can see the shape of the dimple in Harry's cheek, the flush on his face and the brightness in his eyes.

"God, Harry," he breathes out, knowing how much Harry loves to hear him. Reaching down, he brushes the fringe out of Harry's eyes and off his forehead, eyebrows raising when Harry pushes back into his hand and looks up at him expectantly.

Louis can take a hint.

Threading his fingers in the shorter strands, he holds Harry in place and starts to roll his hips - slowly, carefully, giving them both time to adjust. Harry still moves with him, not enough to dislodge Louis' grip, but stops when Louis tugs gently in reminder. His mouth drops open wider, hands braced on Louis' thighs, and Louis finally starts to push his cock between his lips with more force. Harry's cheeks hollow out as he struggles to keep up with the pace Louis sets, eyes fluttering every time Louis' cock hits the back of his throat. His nails dig into the meat of Louis' thighs and he bends slightly at the knee, enough to push his cock deeper.

Louis finally releases him when Harry's face starts to go a bit too red, giving him a chance to catch his breath. Except Harry only spares a second to wipe his mouth before he's back at it, this time rising up off his heels and opening wide to take Louis all the way down. Louis' knees go weak as Harry holds him there, his throat fluttering around the head of his cock and his eyelashes twitching against his cheek. It takes all of his self-control to keep from grinding his hips against Harry’s face, the wet heat of his mouth almost too much to stand. Harry pulls off after nearly a minute with a wet slurp, gasping hard and grinning wide, proud.

Louis doesn't think he's ever met someone who loves sucking cock as much as Harry does.

"Babe," he says, awed, as he reaches down to brush a stray tear from Harry's face. Harry catches his hand and turns his head to kiss his fingertip, making Louis snort. "You sap."

"You love it," Harry says confidently, his voice shot. He drops Louis' hand to curl his fist around Louis' cock, working over him in slow, careful strokes, grip just shy of perfect. He ducks back in but aims lower, holding Louis' cock in place as he bends down to run his tongue over the seam of Louis' sac. Louis yelps at that, covering his mouth belatedly like he can draw the sound back inside. He hisses as Harry mouths at his balls, pushing his hips out further and widening his stance as much as he can manage with his sweats around his knees.

"Harry, jesus," he chokes out, rolling his hips in smalls circles as Harry sucks one and then the other into his mouth, tongue pressed flat against his skin.

Harry pulls off with a wet smacking sound, opens the fist wrapped around Louis' cock and leans in to lick from base to tip and back down. Pushing up onto his toes, Louis can't help grinding against Harry's face - he wants those lips back around him now and is about five seconds away from grabbing Harry and just shoving his cock in his mouth.

Instead of following what Louis thinks is a pretty obvious request, Harry sits back on his heels, both hands sliding up to hold Louis by his hips, and smiles up at him. His face is flushed, lips red and wet, hair wild; Louis' cock twitches at the sight of him and a single pearl of precome slips slowly from the slit.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?" Louis sputters when he finally remembers how to use his voice.

Harry shrugs. "Porn," he says with an arched eyebrow, like 'duh'.

His hand feels stiff when he pulls it off the support beam he's been clinging to, reaching out for Harry. "Get up here."

He comes easily, turning his face into Louis' hand before pushing up to his feet and crowding in close. Louis' bare arse hits the cold metal behind him as he stumbles back and he hisses in surprise, Harry grinning at him.

"Shut up, it's your fault," he grumps.

"Sorry," Harry says, not sounding sorry at all. Before Louis can complain, he's being pulled away from the metal beam, Harry's hands curling around the shape of his arse. His cock is trapped between their bodies, smearing come across the hem of Harry's shirt, but Harry doesn't seem to mind. Louis tilts his head back as Harry's lips slide across the column of his neck, pushing up onto his toes again as he grinds his hips against Harry's stomach.

Harry's mouth moves up across his jaw, biting once lightly, before he finds Louis' lips. Tasting himself, Louis groans and reaches up to brace his hands against Harry's shoulders. Harry kisses like he has all the time in the world; there's no urgency in the way he slants their mouths together, just a sweet little curl of his tongue against Louis’. His fingers flex where they're curved around Louis' arse, kneading at him until Louis is whining quietly into the kiss.

He's itching with the urge to just push Harry to the floor and climb into his lap by now, cock throbbing where it's trapped between them.

"God get on with it, then," he huffs out, once he pulls away from Harry long enough to catch his breath. Harry drops back to his knees and Louis bites his lip in anticipation, but to his surprise Harry just sits back and looks up at him expectantly.

"What?" Louis snaps, ignoring the way Harry smirks at the impatience in his tone. They're behind the bloody stands for christ's sake, where anyone could see them, and he's got his prick out like it's no big deal.

In lieu of an answer, Harry twirls a finger in a wide circle. Louis' breath rushes out of him at once, cheeks burning hot, and Harry's smile grows wider. "Turn around," he says, as if Louis didn't get it the first time.

Biting his lip, Louis glances around - there's no way anyone should still be lingering around by now, but it still feels a bit weird to be doing this out here. The thought of possibly being caught out makes his stomach clench, and he's moving before he realizes, shuffling awkwardly with his sweatpants at his ankles. Leaning forward to bend slightly at the waist, he grips the metal support beam in front of him and spreads his feet as much as he can manage, head bowed between his shoulders and eyes squeezed shut.

He hears Harry's knees scratch against the dirt as he comes closer, and his grip on the beams tightens instinctively, the metal warming under the heat of his palms. Louis' breath sounds so loud in his own ears, panting out hard through his mouth.

For a long moment, there's nothing, and then he jerks as Harry rests a hand on the back of his thigh. Lips touch the place where the bottom of his arse meets his thigh, one side and then the next, in the lightest of kisses. Louis can feel his ears burning and shifts his feet impatiently. He can feel the warmth of Harry's face right behind him, his breath fanning over his skin as he - stares at Louis' arse, it seems like.

It's not the first time they've done this but it certainly feels like it, Louis' stomach tense with nerves and anticipation both. He remembers how Harry had once jumped under the first touch of his tongue, but he'd relaxed into it easy enough and surprised Louis by reciprocating only two days later. He hadn't spent much time at it then but now it seems like Harry is determined to drag this out as long as possible and he doesn't think he can stand that.

Louis' cock has started to flag, which is a bit of a relief except for the part where he's feeling a tad foolish standing here with his pants down and his arse sticking out, and he needs Harry to just _do something_ , already.

"Harry," he says, and gets another kiss to the top of his arse cheek, this one lingering and a bit wet as Harry flicks his tongue out. He's got both hands under his arse now, just waiting, and Louis pushes back into them, sighing when Harry squeezes and starts to spread him open. But his mouth just moves from one cheek to the other, sucking little kisses along both sides but never where Louis wants - needs - him.

"Babe, come on," he says again, rolling his hips a bit. Harry rises up on his knees to kiss the small of his back, just above the crack of his arse. So close, yet not quite..

" _Harry_." Turning his head, Louis opens his eyes and cranes his neck to look back at the boy kneeling behind him. Harry meets his gaze with raised eyebrows, holds it as he leans in to kiss just above his hole.

Hissing, Louis pushes back in a bid to get his mouth just a little lower, but Harry pulls away and holds him open wider instead, blowing a short burst of cold air over him that has Louis clenching hard, back arching as he yelps in surprise.

"You _fu_ –"

The first touch of Harry's tongue against him makes his knees buckle. He starts out with light, quick little flicks, and Louis' breath hitches with each pass, arsehole clenching as pleasure licks up his spine. He has to bury his face in the crook of his arm, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out the way he wants to, his chest gone tight from the effort of silencing himself.

He can only imagine what would happen if one of his teammates were to come back here now, see their captain bent over with his boyfriend's tongue in his arse - Louis' cock twitches at the thought and he groans, hands clenching around the support beam keeping him upright.

Pushing back against Harry is futile because Harry just moves back with him, keeping his touch too light to give Louis what he really wants. He can't even spread his legs properly, confined by the sweats pooled around his ankles. Reaching back, he fumbles until he finds one of Harry's hands on his arse and squeezes his fingers.

" _Fuck_ , Harry," he chokes out, voice muffled by his arm. He can barely think beyond the feeling of Harry's mouth on him, cock heavy between his legs. Dropping Harry's hand, he starts to reach for himself but Harry's catches him before he can, tangles their fingers together to keep him in place.

Harry is relentless - he spreads him open wider and presses the tip of his tongue against his hole hard enough that Louis clenches around him, then pulls back and continues the tease of lighter touches. Louis whines low in the back of his throat, incapable of forming the words he needs to express his frustration. Harry is such a goddamn tease sometimes, and Louis wishes he could say that he hates it but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Louis can hardly tell up from down anymore, only knows the feeling of Harry's tongue against him. He pushes up onto his toes in an attempt to get closer, grips Harry's fingers tighter where they're still tangled with his own, and tries to remember to breathe. No longer teasing, Harry's tongue licks harder, longer, teasing at his hole and pushing inside just a little as Louis flutters around him.

He drops Harry's hand then, reaches for the support beam to hold himself up because his legs are starting to feel a little unsteady. Harry spreads him open and buries his face between his cheeks and Louis can't help but roll his hips, choking on a sob as he grinds back on Harry's tongue. There's sweat beading on his forehead, his face flaming hot.

And then Harry pulls away. Louis thinks it must be over, lifts his head as he tries to get his feet back under him, but—

One big hand slides over the curve of his arse and spreads him open with thumb and forefinger, and then there's a single finger, wet with what Louis can only assume must be spit, nudging slowly inside.

" _Haaah, fuck_ ," he grunts out, toes curling in his shoes. Harry gets two knuckles deep before his mouth is there again, tongue working him over as he fucks him with his finger. Louis can't help but squeeze tight around him, hips working to take him deeper. He wants more, wants Harry pushing inside him, filling him up until they're pressed tight together, hips to arse.

It's not enough, not nearly enough, but Louis knows Harry won't risk two fingers without any lube. Harry's mouth slides back down to Louis' balls, tongue pressed between them and curling over one and then the other before he sucks them into his mouth. Swearing, Louis has to reach between his legs then, curling his fist around his cock and hissing between teeth at the touch.

He starts off slow, his hand slick with his own come as he spreads it around the length of his cock to make the slide easier, foreskin pulled back as he rubs his thumb across his slit. Louis can hear the wet smack of skin on skin as he picks up speed, biting into the skin of his arm to keep from crying out. When Harry's mouth slides back up to his arse, he pulls his finger out slowly only to replace it with his tongue, wriggling past the loosened muscle to twist the tip just inside.

Two hands on his cheeks, Harry holds him open like that and fucks him with his tongue, spit dripping down the sides of his mouth and leaking over Louis' balls. His chest is tight with the way he's barely breathing, stomach clenched as he rocks between Harry's mouth and his own fist.

"Fuck," he says, and again, " _fuck_ ," his voice high and strained. He's so close, ears burning and mind going just a little fuzzy as the beginnings of orgasm start to wash over him. His cock swells in his fist, pulsing in time with the way his stomach contracts and expands as he spills over his hand. His hips jerk hard enough that he stumbles, feet caught by his sweats, and only Harry's grip on him keeps him from falling to his knees. Come drips between his fingers as he slows his hand, arm shaking where he's still gripping the support beam and all the strength in his legs gone.

It takes a moment for Louis to pull himself together enough to push himself up. He holds his hand, covered in his own mess, close to his chest as he turns to find Harry already on his feet, fingers fumbling with the zip on his trousers. Louis watches as Harry gets his cock out, strokes himself twice, quickly, to ease the ache, and then start towards him.

"Lou," he says, biting down on his lip as he looks out at him through his fringe with dark, dark eyes.  
Louis stumbles towards him, legs still shaky, and pulls him in for a kiss that just misses its mark. Harry catches him, free hand curling around his waist to hold him up, and he turns his head so that their lips slot together properly. It should be gross, considering where he'd just had his mouth, but Louis' stomach squirms with something that is definitely a lot closer to arousal than disgust.

Harry is still stroking himself slowly when they pull apart, biting his lip like he's struggling not to just get himself off right then and there. Louis doesn't understand why he's holding back – they've been out here long enough already.

"D'you want me to suck you off?" he offers, smirking at the way Harry groans in response. His shoulders hunch as he squeezes himself hard enough that a drop of come leaks from the tip.

"Wanna fuck you," Harry says.

"We don't have anything here, babe," Louis reminds him. And, honestly, he isn't sure he's up for that so soon anyway.

"I know, I just."

Harry's got that look in his eye, the one that says he's got something on his mind but it might actually be too weird for even _him_ to say. "Just what?"

"I saw this - thing - once. We could - it would be quick, I swear."

"Can I sit down, at least?"

"Oh, well - maybe you could get on your knees?"

Louis eyes the hard ground under their feet with distaste, but – Harry had done it, so it's the least he can do, really. Stepping out of his sweats, he folds them before setting them down and kneeling on them, his back to Harry (again).

Twisting, he watches Harry push his trousers down to his calves and shuffle over to drop down to his knees behind him. Harry smiles sheepishly when he meets Louis' gaze, but Louis just rolls his eyes and leans back to catch his mouth in a quick kiss. "Get on with it, then. Whatever this is."

"Yeah. Just, lean forward maybe?"

Louis starts to spread his legs to redistribute his weight as he bends over but Harry's sudden, "no, don't!" has him freezing in his tracks.

"You have to keep them closed," Harry explains, biting his lip when Louis whirls around in confusion.

"The things I do for you," Louis grumbles. The ground is hard under his hands and he knows it won't be a comfortable position to maintain so he gives up immediately, leaning over further as he folds his arms and pillows his head against them. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's–" Harry trails off, hands sliding up and down the back of Louis' thighs. Louis wriggles a bit under the touch, always so responsive to Harry's hands on him, but he stills easily enough after a few seconds.

He has no idea what it is that Harry has in mind, so when he feels Harry's cock against the crack of his arse he startles just a bit, hips jerking before he settles and pushes back into it.

Harry rocks against him for a moment, cock sliding between the seam of his cheeks and making Louis shiver when it drags over the edge of his hole. He doesn't know how Harry expects to get off like this but, whatever floats his—

Harry pulls back then, and then the head of his cock is nudging its way between Louis' thighs. It's – different, he thinks. Might even feel good if Louis hadn't already come, but that doesn't matter. This is about Harry.

Catching on quickly, Louis starts to rock back against him as Harry moves his hips in shallow little thrusts, clenching and unclenching his thighs with every drag of Harry's cock between them. He can feel Harry's come smearing across his legs, making his path slicker, smoother.

This side of his orgasm, Louis is more aware of Harry behind him; the way his hands grip his hips to hold him in place, the way his breath hitches every time he pulls back, his little grunts as he pushes in. Reaching between his legs, Louis finds the head of Harry's cock and pushes his thumb into the slit, curling his fingers around the head as Harry moves between his thighs.

"Yeah, please," Harry sighs, and Louis makes a fist with his thumb and two fingers, works them over the head of Harry's cock at a tempo different from the one Harry has set as he moves against him. His hand is wet instantly and Louis knows Harry's close, starts twisting his wrist with every stroke and rubbing his thumb deep into his slit.

"Lou, I–" Harry chokes on his own words, fingers tightening on Louis' hips as his rhythm starts to falter, his own hips twitching in stilted little thrusts. Louis clenches his thighs tighter and Harry swears, his cock pulsing between Louis' legs.

Louis works his fist faster, biting his lip as he feels the first stirrings of arousal reawakening in his belly. They are _definitely_ doing this again, he thinks – sometime when he can properly enjoy it.

"Lou, 'm gonna–" Harry says, voice tight.

"Yeah, babe, come on," Louis coos, "feels fucking amazing."

Harry goes still but Louis doesn't stop moving. And then he feels it, Harry's cock twitching as his come drips down between Louis' legs, Harry groaning low in his throat and clutching tight at Louis' waist. He rolls his hips, once, as he starts to come down, sighing in relief before he pulls back and Louis is left feeling oddly empty.

"That was. Interesting," he says, grimacing when he glances down to see Harry's come dripping onto his sweats. It's a good thing they're the only ones left here because that stain would be far too obvious to try to cover up.

His knees are a little sore when he gets back to his feet, Harry still on his knees while Louis shakes out his joggers and pulls them back on. He has a second set of clothes in his bag, anyway, and it's only a ten minute drive back to Harry's place. He'll manage.

 

It's another five minutes before they come out from under the stands, their clothes more or less arranged as neatly as they can be given the circumstances. They'd seemed so far removed from the school before but, seeing how close the building is now Louis wonders if maybe they were heard - or seen - after all.

He grins a little at the thought.

Harry leads the way to the car park and his mum's car - she'd lent it to him after much begging, since they'd taken Robin's car for their trip anyway. Louis feels guilty sitting in Anne's passenger seat wearing joggers stained with her son's come, but at least it's (mostly) on the inside. He's sticky and a little uncomfortable, and he should feel sated after that episode but he's not. After feeling Harry's cock between his legs like that, all Louis can think about now is the real thing.

On the other hand, Harry seems to be pretty damn contented with himself. Louis watches him as he settles in behind the wheel, carefully pulling out of the parking space and out onto the road. He drives like a damn grandmother, though Louis is sure that's mostly due to the fact that his mum would skin him alive if he wrecked her car.

"So where did you learn that, anyway?" Louis asks him. 

"Oh, I dunno. There was this video?"

Still trying to find a comfortable way to sit, Louis frowns. "You’ve been watching porn without me?"

"It was an away game. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Could’ve at least sent it to me, after."

"I still have it - bookmarked. I'll show you later," Harry says, glancing over at him.

Louis grins. "Or we can just do it again. Sooner, preferably."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. Except maybe this time I’ll do you, yeah?"

Harry's fingers flex around the steering wheel. Louis smirks. "Yeah, maybe," Harry says, coughing into his fist. "Are you - okay?" he adds, still watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Louis makes a face, shifting in place for the umpteenth time. "Your come is sticking to my legs."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

Harry shrugs, grin verging on a bit smug when Louis looks up at him.

"You seem to have a bit of a _thing_ for getting your come on me, don't you?"

Heat travels up Harry's neck, making his cheeks flush as he pointedly avoids Louis' gaze.

"You’ve never complained about it before," he says, voice trailing off uncertainly.

"Oh, this isn't a complaint. Just an observation. It's actually kind of hot." Slouching in his seat as much as the belt will allow, Louis slides his hands up under his own shirt, fingers trailing lightly over the skin of his stomach. Harry glances back at him and away again three times in quick succession, eyes flicking down to the small sliver of skin revealed where Louis' shirt has ridden up.

"It’s not - I don't _plan_ for it to happen. It just - does," he protests, weakly.

"I’m not sure if I believe that. Happened quite a few times now, hasn't it? Can't have been an accident every time."

The flush on Harry's face darkens and Louis feels something start to buzz under his skin, something more than triumph. If he thinks about it, he can still feel the phantom press of Harry's cock between sliding his thighs, or even the sweet warmth of Harry's tongue inside of him. Arousal starts to curl in his gut and Louis can't help but kick his feet further apart, one hand slipping out from under his shirt to palm at the front of his pants. His fingers find the head of his cock through the fabric and—

"What are you doing," Harry says flatly. They're stopped at a red light, and though Harry's tone might mean to convey disapproval his gaze says anything but.

"Thinking about you fucking me," Louis says honestly, tilting his hips up into his touch as his cock starts to fill under his hand. "Eyes on the road, Harold."

The car lurches, traffic light green now.

Louis can't help but sneak a glance across at his boyfriend's lap, hand following the trail of his eyes until he's got his fingers trailing up Harry's thigh. Harry jumps under the touch, eyes wide when he looks over.

"You’re going to make me crash," he scolds, but his legs spread just a little wider. Louis presses his hand flat against Harry's leg, slides up to his waist until his fingertips are inching under the hem of his shirt as he walks his fingers across the bottom of his stomach. Harry sucks in, muscles going tense under Louis' hand.

"D’you remember, that one video we watched? When the guy came in his boyfriend's arse and then ate it?" Louis asks him. 

He's watching carefully for it, so he definitely doesn't miss the way Harry's throat bobs as he swallows, nor the sudden hitch in his breath. Sliding his hand lower, Louis finds the shape of Harry's cock in his pants and grinds against it with the heel of his palm.

"Louis, don't," Harry breathes, even as he angles his hips forward so Louis' hand slips further into his lap.

"Or maybe you just want to come on my face again," he continues, feeling Harry fattening up under his palm. They're only a few streets away now, but Louis doesn't think Harry would appreciate it if he pulled down his zip to get a hand around him, anyway.

He settles instead for reaching into his own joggers and wrapping a fist around himself, half hard and growing stiffer by the minute. Groaning only a little exaggeratedly, a slow smile curves across his face as Harry glances over at him, incredulous.

"Are you–? _Louis_ , you can't–!"

"Hurry up, then, grandpa."

Harry's mouth twisting into a scowl is the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes and focuses on the feel of palm against skin, the drag slow thanks to a lack of lube.

He grunts in surprise when the car rolls over the curb of Harry's driveway, eyes flying open.

"Don’t. Say anything," Harry grumbles, shutting off the ignition. Louis smirks but mimes zipping his lips before twisting to grab his bag from the backseat and climbing out behind him.

His hands slide around Harry's waist, both hands curling around the shape of his dick in his pants as Harry fumbles with getting his key in the lock.

"Come _on_ , Styles," he mouths into the side of Harry's neck.

"Maybe if you'd _get off_ –"

"–that's exactly what I’m trying to do."

Harry barks out a laugh and then they're both stumbling forward as the door swings open. Louis drops his bag as soon as they're inside, tugging at Harry's hip until he turns and slanting their lips together. Harry's muffled yelp is swallowed by the kiss, his hands settling on Louis' waist as his own bag clatters to the ground.

Louis walks them backward towards the stairs, familiar enough with the layout of the house that he doesn't need to see where he's going. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck, pausing just long enough to pull himself up and wrap his legs around Harry's waist.

Harry staggers a bit under his weight but corrects himself easily enough, hands going under Louis' thighs for a better grip. They make it halfway up the stairs before Harry's natural grace takes over and he trips, catching the railing before they both end up tumbling back down.

"Shit! Sorry."

He eases them down carefully and Louis unwinds his legs from around Harry's back, groaning.

"You’re so useless."

Harry pouts and really, what else is Louis supposed to do but kiss it away? The shape of the stairs is digging into his back but he has Harry between his legs, Harry's weight draped over him like his favorite blanket, so he can't complain.

Louis' hands slide down over Harry's shoulders, and he sighs as their mouths part enough for their tongues to brush, once, before Harry starts to pull away. Louis catches Harry's bottom lip between his teeth lightly, releases it slowly as he draws back. Harry's mouth slides down across his jaw to his neck, and Louis's head falls back against the stairs as he groans, pushing his hips up and sliding a leg around Harry's thigh to draw him in closer.

Harry's hand strokes around the other side of his face, thumb under his jaw as he sinks his teeth into the skin at the base of his throat. The other slips between their bodies and under the waist of Louis' sweats to curl around his cock, and Louis grunts as he arches up into his grip.

His legs fall open, the one around Harry hitching up higher as Louis rolls his hip, cock slipping between Harry's fist as he strokes him slowly. Hands falling from his shoulders, Louis reaches for Harry's belt and fumbles with the zip before finally getting a hand inside and matching the sedate pace of Harry's strokes with his own.

Harry is hot under his palm, skin soft. Louis' fingers drag as they slide over the length of him, and Harry grunts into his neck as his hips twitch above him. Louis brings his free hand to his face, spits in his palm and reaches back down to curl both fists around Harry, spreading the saliva for a smoother glide.

His eyes flutter as Harry tips his head further back, mouth sliding back up to his jaw. The mark burns once it's released, and Louis can't help reaching up to press two fingers against it, feeling the imprint of Harry's teeth marks under his fingertips.

Harry leans up to press their lips together—

"Fuck me," Louis says against his mouth, request and reminder all at once. Harry's thumb moves with his adam's apple as he swallows, and then he pulls back just enough to meet Louis' eyes, foreheads pressed together as he nods.

"Yeah," he says, "yeah, okay. C'mon."

Tucking themselves away, Harry helps Louis up to his feet and the two of them stumble the rest of the way upstairs, kissing and necking at each other as they go. It's pretty counterproductive, actually, because they barely get a few steps before stopping again, but eventually they make it to Harry's room. 

The door slams harder than he means it to, Louis falling back against it as Harry crowds into his space. There are hands at his hips and lips at his throat, fingers inching up the hem of his shirt and trailing along his ribs as they go. Canting his hips forward, Louis hooks a leg around Harry's waist and pulls him in to rut against him shamelessly, fingers buried in his curls as he drags his face around to catch his mouth in a kiss.

"Where’s the – go get–"

"Yeah," Harry mutters against his lips, "yeah, hang on." His hands slide around to Louis' arse and he squeezes once, hard, before pulling away to dig through his drawers.

Louis tugs his shirt up over his head in the meantime, drops it to the floor and kicks it out of the way while groping himself through his sweats. Harry looks up then, turning around with his hands full. He bites his lip as his eyes travel down the expanse of Louis' bared skin, down to the dip above his waistband where his happy trail would be.

Louis takes a half-step forward, feeling his cheeks start to heat under Harry's gaze. But Harry shakes his head, stalking toward him until he has Louis pressed back against the door. The bottle of lube almost-bounces when it hits the ground but Louis is too distracted by Harry's hands at his waist to be concerned.

His sweats are pulled down slowly, Harry's mouth on the divot of his chest and trailing lower as he kneels in front of him. He curls his hand around Louis' cock, fitting his lips around the head just as Louis is stepping out of his pants once and for all, kicking them aside impatiently.

Louis groans as Harry's tongue finds his slit, hands falling to Harry's shoulders as he rolls his hips to thrust shallowly into Harry's mouth. Louis' head falls back against the door, eyes closed so that the snick of the bottle opening sounds so much louder in the dark. There's a finger at his arse a moment later, nudging against his hole before sinking inside in one push.

His cock falls from Harry's lips as Harry moves to lift one of Louis' legs onto his shoulder. Louis rocks on his hand impatiently, swiveling his hips in a slow circle.

"C'mon, Haz," he grumbles, and then there's more lube and a second finger pressing against him. Harry's tongue trails up the side of his cock and then Louis is covered in that warm, wet heat again as Harry moves his mouth over him.

Louis rocks up onto his toes as the second finger sinks inside him, back arching up off the door as he grinds his hips down. Harry pulls off again, strokes him once before pressing his palm flat against the door to steady himself as he works Louis open.

It's been a while since he's had Harry inside him, even just like this, and he's missed it. With his hands braced on Harry's shoulders, Louis moans as he fucks himself on his boyfriend's hand, biting his lip against the familiar girth of Harry's fingers. He wants more, wants to feel Harry filling him up as he bottoms out, and Louis' nails scrabble against Harry's shirt to pull him in closer as if that will somehow give it to him.

"Okay, okay. Come on, fuck me already."

Harry's mouth closes around him again instead and takes him in nearly all the way down, sucking hard. Louis' eyes flutter as he grinds between Harry's mouth and his hand until Harry pulls off with a smug smile, leaning back so Louis' leg falls back to the ground. He gets to his feet slowly, fingers slipping out so that Louis is left to clench around air.

Reaching out, Louis grabs Harry by the belt and makes quick work of his zipper, shoving his trousers and pants down in one go.

"Why are you still - dressed, _Jesus_ ," he grouses, but Harry ignores him as he tugs his shirt over his head in one movement and tosses it across the room. Louis can't help but wrap his hand around Harry's cock - it's just right there, isn't it? - but Harry nudges him back before he can do anything with it.

"Thought you wanted me to fuck you?"

"Sometime this century, preferably."

Rolling his eyes, Harry bends to grab the condom he'd left on the floor and makes quick work of rolling it on. Louis bites his lip in anticipation and watches Harry’s hand as he strokes himself once, spreading lube over the surface and making sure it's snug.

Crowding in close, Harry hoists Louis up by the thighs and presses him back against the door while Louis' arms wrap around his shoulders. Louis' heart is beating hard in his chest, cock twitching where it's caught between them. He feels oddly exposed like this, Harry's dick riding the crack of his arse.

Pinned between Harry's weight and the door, Louis has no room to move as Harry reaches down and lines himself up before slowly pushing inside. There's a moment of resistance, making both of them groan before Louis' body gives under him, opening up to take the tip of his cock. Louis' mouth stretches into a grimace - it doesn't hurt but he already feels so full and he's not sure if it's the position or the fact that they haven't done this in a while that makes it feel like Harry is bigger than he remembers.

" _Jesus - fuck_ ," he grits out, fingers squeezing his own wrists where they're clasped behind Harry's neck. He's breathing like he's just done a lap around the pitch, his arsehole clenching tight around the head of Harry's cock. Harry hasn't moved since, probably giving Louis some time to adjust, but all Louis wants is for Harry to slide all the way home - if he had the room, he'd grind down on him himself, but he's completely trapped.

"Fuck me," he says, "Harry, c'mon. Just do it–"

His head slams back against the door, all the air punched out of his lungs as Harry thrusts up sharply, burying himself nearly all the way.

"God, _Lou_ ," Harry gasps out, and Louis opens his eyes to see Harry's cheeks flushed red, face slack and mouth open. Rolling his head forward, Louis leans down to kiss him, whining into his mouth as Harry pulls out slowly only to inch back in.

Louis' entire world falls away except for the push and pull of Harry moving inside him. He can't even remember to kiss him back, their mouths slanted together unmoving. Harry is still being so careful, his thrusts too shallow to do anything but make Louis crazy with wanting more. Harry's fingers are digging into the meat of his thighs, holding him in place to keep him from moving the way he wants to.

"So good, H," he says, pulling back to press his forehead against Harry's temple, "feels so good, c'mon."

Harry groans and Louis swears he can feel it vibrate in his chest. Pressing in closer, his hands slide out from under Louis' thighs to brace against the door, and _finally_ , Louis can move.

He doesn't hesitate for a second, rolls his hips as much as the small space between them will allow, heels digging into Harry's back. It's so much but still not enough; every push feels like he's being split apart, like he's so full he can barely breathe around it.

"Harry, I swear to god–" he grits out, but the rest of his threat is torn out of him as Harry pulls out and slams _all the way in_ , all the way to the hilt, and holds him there. Come slides down Louis' stomach from the tip of his cock, trapped between their bodies as his arse clenches tight around Harry. He can't breathe; he can't even _think_ , toes curled and nails biting into his skin where he's gripping himself tightly.

" _Fuck_ ," Louis gasps, "please–" before Harry turns his head and finds his mouth for a kiss. Louis whines into his mouth, back arching as Harry rolls his hips to grind in deeper somehow. A string of saliva connects them as he pulls back, head falling against the door as he fights for breath.

And then Harry starts to move, the way Louis has been _waiting_ for. His hips snap up in short, quick thrusts and it's all Louis can to do cling to him as his shoulders slide up the wall with the force of Harry's movement.

"Lou, Lou, _fuck_ , Louis," is Harry's mantra, grunted into the side of his neck as he buries his face there. He can feel Harry's balls slapping against his arse, Harry's stomach flexing under Louis' cock as it slides between them slick from his own come.

Louis' eyes start to roll back as Harry presses him further into the door, his legs bent nearly double with no room to move as Harry's cock continues to drive into him. His fingers curl into the thickest parts of Harry's hair and he tugs desperately, shoulders pushing back against the door as he strains for air. It's so much, so good, his cock full and aching and trapped between them and Harry's mouth against his neck as he growls low in the back of his throat.

"I’m – _fuck!_ " is all Louis can get out, tears starting to stream from the corners of his eyes. Harry's arms are starting to shake where he's holding him up, his rhythm faltering. Louis gets his arms back around him just in time for Harry to stumble back, hands going around Louis' waist to hold him up. Louis can feel the heat of his breath as Harry pants into his neck, and when he lifts his head his face is flushed like they're in the thick of summer.

He locks his legs around Harry's back as Harry staggers back towards his bed, swearing when Louis clenches around him as he moves. They tumble and land in a pile of limbs, Louis on his back on the mattress and Harry above him, cock still buried deep inside him.

"Sorry," Harry says, looking genuinely apologetic as if he hadn't just nearly killed them.

Louis snorts out a laugh that turns into a moan when the force of it nudges Harry deeper, and Harry's answering smile blooms slowly across his face.

Breathing hard, Louis lets his legs fall to the mattress as Harry kneels between his legs, Louis' arms stretched out high above his head as he arches his back to grind down on Harry's dick.

"So, are you going to finish, or–?"

Harry's eyes narrow. Louis doesn't even have a moment to brace himself before his legs are lifted again, thighs pushed up to his chest as Harry pulls him closer and shoves in deep enough that Louis shouts in pleasure as his back arches clear off the bed and his fingers fist in the sheets under his palms.

It takes Harry a second to situate himself, knees on the bed on either side of him as he leans over Louis, before he starts to fuck into him again as if he'd never stopped. Louis doesn't know what to do with his hands; he settles on holding his legs open as Harry braces himself against the bed. The ache in his cock had eased when Harry moved them but he can feel the tugging starting up in his stomach again, knows he isn't far off.

His nails bite into the skin under his knees as he grips the backs of his thighs, head tilted back as he stares unseeing at the wall behind him. Harry presses in closer, deeper, leaning down to mouth hotly at Louis' neck, and Louis does his best to grind back against him, his cock slapping against his stomach with every thrust.

Harry's hands slide under his shoulders and Louis feels his own legs start to tremble under his palms, thighs and hips burning from being folded up for so long, but it only makes it that much better. Harry's strokes are getting longer, hips swiveling as he grinds in deep with every thrust before pulling out and slamming back in again and again, balls slapping against Louis' arse.

"Ah, ah, _ah!_ " His chest is burning, breath caught somewhere between his stomach and his lungs. Harry has him pinned to the bed with little room to move, nothing to do but curl his toes as his balls grow tight between them. Harry's hands fold into fists under his shoulders, sheets bunching under Louis' back as Harry's hips snap faster, harder—

Shoulders pushed back against the bed, Louis’ spine curves upward like a puppet pulled by string, teeth grinding and legs twitching under his hands. He’s so fucking close he can feel it on the back of his tongue, entire body strung tight like tripwire. And then Harry grinds in deep and Louis' mouth falls open in a soundless scream as his cock jerks between them, come spilling down between his legs and pooling on his stomach.

Harry sets his teeth against Louis' throat, pulls out and pushes in to the beat of Louis' cock twitching between them. Louis is struggling for breath, can't quite come down with the way Harry is still moving inside him. His hands fall to the mattress but his knees stay folded until Harry finally slows to a stop, sitting up and back so that Louis can stretch his legs out over his thighs.

"Fucking.. Fuck," he says, articulate. Harry laughs and Louis groans as Harry's cock moves inside him with it.

"Y'alright?" Harry asks, grinning at the way Louis is starfished across his bed. If he had the strength left Louis would flip him the finger, but all he can do is squint in some approximation of a glare.

He grunts as Harry finally pulls out, arsehole clenching with how empty he feels. Harry peels the condom off, dropping it somewhere behind him as he strokes himself slowly. Louis watches the way Harry twists his wrist, the way his eyes fall closed and his eyelashes flutter against his cheek as he rocks slowly into his fist. He rubs his thumb and forefinger against the head of his cock, a soft, hurt noise escaping him as he does.

Harry's brows are furrowed, teeth sunk into that plush bottom lip. His eyes open slowly, like he can feel the weight of Louis' gaze, and he licks his lips once before shifting his knees out from under Louis' legs to scoot higher on the bed until he's hovering over Louis' chest.

The thought of even lifting his head feels like too much work, but Louis cranes his neck and opens up as Harry presses his cock against Louis' lips. There's a plastic-y taste leftover from the condom and the lube but under that is the bitter tang he knows as exclusively Harry. He pushes in slow, groaning as Louis' mouth closes around him, tongue flat against his slit. His hips move in slow circles and Louis sighs at the weight of Harry's cock stretching his jaw.

Fingers card through his fringe, damp and clumped with sweat, as Harry thrusts shallowly into his mouth. Louis bobs his head as best he can, hands coming up to grip Harry's waist and pull him in closer, cheeks hollowed as he sucks. He can feel the drag of Harry's cock against his lips, the slow hot glide along his tongue.

Harry groans quietly above him and Louis curls his fingers around his shaft to stroke the half of him that won't fit in his mouth at this angle. It's probably the laziest blowjob he's ever given but he makes up for it by keeping his mouth vacuum tight, twisting his wrist in the way he knows Harry likes.

Harry's thrusts get longer, hips snapping a little sharper, skin going tight and that bitter flavor bursting over Louis' tongue. Louis can feel him throb between his fingers, cranes his neck that much further to take him deeper because he can tell that Harry's close. His breathing's gone erratic, groans getting louder before he finally pulls back, cock slipping from between Louis' lips with a wet pop.

Sitting back on his chest, Harry strokes himself quickly, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. 

" _Fuck_ ," he grunts out, free hand braced beside Louis' head. Reaching under him, Louis runs his palm over his balls, thumb stroking along the seam of his sac. He feels them draw up tight, Harry going tense above him and arching up into his fist, and then he's coming with a groan.

The first spurt hits Louis in the chin, drips down his neck to the sheets beneath him. The next lands higher on his chest as Harry slowly sinks back onto his heels, not quite straddling Louis' waist. He's still stroking himself, slowly, wringing out the last of his orgasm with his eyes closed and his face slack. Louis watches the rise and fall of his chest as he heaves a breath, flushed from his cheeks to his sternum.

Harry's eyes open slowly as he comes back down, sated smile curving his lips as he looks down at the mess he's left. Cradling his come-covered hand to his chest, he lets himself fall sideways, the bed bouncing under his weight, and shimmies up the mattress until they're lying side by side.

"Hi," he says.

Louis snorts, reaches over to cup the side of his face and pulls him in for a kiss. Harry pushes up onto an elbow and rolls them so that he's half hovering over Louis, then pulls back just enough that their lips are no longer touching. Come covered fingers touch his mouth and Louis flicks his tongue out to clean them, closes his mouth eagerly around them when Harry pushes them past his lips.

And then Harry's lips are there too, pressed to the side of his mouth while his tongue sweeps out to brush against Louis' as they make short work of cleaning his fingers. Closing his fingers around Harry's wrist, Louis groans as Harry's mouth moves lower, lips and tongue sliding along his jaw to lick his own come from Louis' chin. There's a hint of teeth at the spot just below his ear and then Harry pulls away, twisting his wrist to catch Louis' fingers with his own as he withdraws them from his mouth.

It's quiet for a minute, the two of them breathing in tandem with their linked fingers against Louis' chest. Harry brushes a kiss against his shoulder and Louis turns his head only to get a mouthful of curls.

"Harry," he murmurs into the crown of his head. Harry grunts, nuzzling in closer.

"C'mon," Louis says, nudging at him. "I need a fucking shower."

 

The water is piping hot, just the way Louis likes it. It's a tight fit, the two of them in Harry's one-person shower stall, and it takes a minute for them to coordinate their limbs without elbowing each other, but. 

Harry is pliant under Louis’ fingertips, head tilted forward as Louis scratches his nails over his scalp. His hair is feels like silk and slips easily between Louis' fingers as shampoo drips down his neck and over his forehead. Water collects in the deep cavern of his dimple, the smile on his face content. If Harry was a cat, he'd most definitely be purring. 

Cupping his hands, Louis collects water in his palms and pours it over Harry's head to rinse away the suds. Harry sniffs, nostrils flaring wide.

"You're getting water in my nose," he complains.

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know, but it is and you've done it."

Harry's eyes are still closed, so he doesn't see it coming when Louis gets another palmful of water and splashes it up towards his face. He yelps, staggering backward under the spray and nearly tripping over his own feet. He barely manages to catch himself on the tiled wall before he can. 

Wiping at his face is useless considering he's directly under the showerhead now, but he does it anyway, eyes blinking open. His eyelashes are all clumped together, green eyes brighter beneath the cloud of steam surrounding them and the heated flush in his cheeks. 

"What?" he says, smiling shyly under the weight of Louis' gaze and reminding him of the boy he'd first met almost a year ago. 

Shaking his head, Louis steps forward and tugs him out from under the stream of water. Cupping Harry's cheek, he leans in for a kiss that's slow and sweet, Harry's lip caught between his own. It lasts the space of three breaths before he pulls away, watching as Harry's grin blooms across his face.

His heart feels _so full_ , Harry's smile warm like the sun, and Louis can't help grinning back even though he knows they probably look like a pair of fools. Good thing no one else is around to see them. It's so easy to let Harry crowd him against the back wall of the shower, mouth finding his once more. 

Louis tucks Harry's hair behind his ears, fingertips trailing down the sides of his neck and over his chest where he presses his palms flat against Harry's skin. Harry's hands fit around his hips and Louis smiles. 

They stay like that until the water starts to cool beneath their feet, and then Harry steps back to turn off the tap while Louis steps out onto the bathmat and fetches a towel that he wraps around Harry's shoulders. Harry stands still while Louis pats him down, only climbing out of the tub once Louis has dried each of his feet. 

He's faster when he's drying himself off, folding the towel afterward and tossing it on top of the laundry hamper Anne keeps in the corner beside the door. Harry's arms curl around his waist and Louis shivers as water from his hair drips onto his skin, Harry's nose pressed against the side of his face as he kisses at his cheek, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. 

Shuffling through the hall with Harry at his back is slow going, but they make it back to his room without incident. 

"Shit," Louis says, watching Harry move towards his closet.

"What?"

"I left my bag downstairs." Somehow, the thought of roaming through Harry's house naked isn't an appealing one, even if they are the only ones home.

Harry tosses him a shirt that he catches easily, frowning down at himself after he's pulled it over his head. The hem falls just past his waist, not doing much for coverage but he supposes it'll have to do.

 

It makes more sense to get dressed right there in the foyer. He can hear Harry on the stairs by the time he's doing up the zipper on his jeans and looks up to see him carrying a bundle of what can only be Louis' clothes from earlier. 

"Kicking me out, are you?"

"I want a milkshake," Harry says. His hair is starting to fluff up a bit as it dries, making him look impossibly young. 

"What, _now?_ " Louis asks, incredulous. He rolls his eyes when Harry just shrugs. "Can't I nap first?"

"You can nap in the car." Taking his bag, Harry slings the strap over his shoulder and strides past Louis to the door. "Don't tell me you aren't hungry, after all that," he adds.

Louis' stomach chooses that moment to growl in agreement. Louis glares down at it, and when he looks up Harry is smirking at him, the door already half open.

"Fine, but you're paying."

 

He _does_ nap in the car, slumped against the window with a hand between his face and the glass. The place Harry's chosen to take them is pretty busy - not surprising, for a Friday night - but they get a booth for themselves in the back after only a few minutes of waiting. The waitress takes their orders, brings them a pitcher of ice water and a couple glasses, and then they're left alone to wait for their food. 

"Have you ever had ‘paella’?" Harry asks, apropos of nothing.

Louis has long since given up trying to understand the way his boyfriend's mind works. "No, can't say that I have," he says, looking up from the table. "Why?"

Harry shrugs. "I was thinking we should go somewhere, this summer."

"Yeah?" His heart squeezes a little at the thought of the two of them on a beach somewhere, maybe, or curled up together in some posh hotel room.

"Yeah. It could be like, a graduation thing? Something for the five of us, before you and Zayn go off to London." Harry's eyes skitter away, his smile slipping just a little as he trails his fingertips through the condensation on the water pitcher between them.

Oh. "That could be nice," Louis says gently, reaching across the table to curl his fingers around Harry's palm. It's cold and slick from the glass, especially the pads of his fingers once he returns Louis' grip. 

They've talked about it - London - first back when Louis had first applied and then again once he found out he'd gotten in, but it's a little nerve wracking to know that it's just around the corner now.

In a few months he'll be living in an entirely different city. A year ago, he hadn't even been sure that uni was really even in the cards for him, and yet here he is. At least Zayn will be with him, but that's a small comfort compared to everything he'll be giving up. 

"We're going to be fine, y'know," he says, and Harry's smile grows again. 

"I know. I'm just - I might miss you, a bit."

"A _bit?_ " Louis says, voice mock-offended as he makes to pull his hand away from Harry's own. 

Harry's grip tightens for a moment before the waitress arrives with their food and he pulls away for her to set their plates in front of them. Louis watches him drizzle ketchup over his chips and Harry looks up, hand halfway to his mouth, when he finally feels his gaze.

"What?"

"A bit?" Louis repeats. He hasn't even looked at his own plate yet.

"A lot," Harry amends. "I'm going to miss you a lot." The set of his smile has turned sad again and Louis regrets pushing.

"Well," he starts, finally picking at his own sandwich, "you say that now. But I'm going to be home so much you'll start getting sick of me, probably."

" _Never_ ," Harry says, sudden and adamant. Louis looks up, startled by his tone, and Harry's cheeks start to pink up. "I would never get sick of you," he says again, softer.

Biting his lip, Louis looks down at his plate and takes a bite as silence falls over them. It's a good sandwich, lettuce crisp and bread toasted but still soft on the inside. 

Harry looks up when Louis nudges at his feet under the table.

"I'm not going to get sick of you, either," Louis says. 

"I know," Harry says, but his smile is pleased as he turns back to his food.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, pals! i'm [l0l1taa](http://l0l1taa.tumblr.com) on tumblr :)


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